


Full Disclosure

by Kimium, ObscureReference



Series: Mafia AU [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Agoraphobia, Anxiety, Developing trust, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss of Trust, M/M, Minor Character(s), Nyctophobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other additional characters to be added, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, breaking up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 10:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: Part Six. Mafia AU.Truth can be a hard pill to swallow, Revelations aren't always simple to grasp, and Enlightenment can cast more shadows than illuminate. Still reeling from shock, Inigo, Severa, and Owain have to make choices in how to deal with their newfound knowledge in their own ways.





	Full Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is Kimium here! We're back to Inigo! Finally, right? This part has been an absolute pleasure to write. Exploring Inigo and Xander's side of the story was a bit of a challenge (I had to reread many parts to refresh my brain), but I had a blast returning to their story! Once again, thank you to my lovely co author, ObscureReference! Without her hard work this entire series wouldn't have been possible. If you haven't read her talented works yet, I highly recommend you do! And if you want to check me out, my tumblr is [here!](http://kimium.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ObscureReference here! Thanks for your patience while waiting for this next part! And an extra thank you to my co-author, Kimium, who puts up with a lot of my slowness while writing this series. Check out her works if you haven't already! Writing Inigo and a lot of the morally gray (or sometimes much less gray, haha) events of the Mafia AU so far as been really interesting. This type of long-form story isn't one I could ever write on my own, so I'm glad I can do with with Kimium. In addition to reading and commenting below, feel free to check out my tumblr [here!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Be sure to double check those tags before reading! And to read all the parts before this one so you can understand what's going on!

Inigo’s fridge only had half a banana and one yogurt container. He frowned and shut it with a firm sound that echoed in the kitchen like a rubber ball bouncing off steel. The need for groceries was firmly planted in his brain, and Inigo tried his best to ignore it. His skin crawled at the idea of going outside, of being exposed and in public. What if someone was watching him? What if someone tried to attack him? What if someone tried to kill him? What if Xander…

Firmly and almost violently, Inigo shut his mind down, shutting his eyes tightly. Inigo felt his heart rate pulse wildly in his chest and he took a couple deep breaths. The room spun just a touch and reality bled from under Inigo’s feet, cancelling gravity.

“You’re acting stupid,” Inigo told himself. “It’s just a trip to the grocery store. You can manage classes. You can manage grocery shopping.”

It, or “The Incident” as Inigo liked to call it (labeling it as such allowed him to skim over the memory, like pages stuck together with toffee, unable to part), was something he was trying to handle with care. Inigo’s coping methods included Not Thinking About It and Moving On With His Life. Or, at least, he was trying. _Trying._  That was the key word.

Inigo exhaled deeply. He could do this. He was being ridiculous. He was managing classes and his minimal schedule at the costume shop just fine.

Well, “just fine” was stretching the truth, but Inigo wasn’t going to think about that either.

Huffing to himself, Inigo shoved all his thoughts away. Groceries. He needed groceries. If Inigo just thought and focused on one thing, then he’d make it. Grabbing his scarf and a light coat, Inigo took his keys and made himself walk out of his apartment. Locking his door, Inigo tested it three times to make sure it was locked properly before he pocketed his keys and headed out. The wind nipped at his face a little bit, and Inigo tugged his scarf just a bit closer before he carefully walked towards the bus stop.

Grocery shopping went without incident.

 

~

 

His once exciting classes on dance and theater had soured. Inigo sat in the back and tapped his pen against his clipboard. He made sure to sit in the light, directly under one of the stage lights, and made sure all of his classmates were visible. The exit was also in his line of sight and the placement only marginally made Inigo feel like a sense of control was established.

The professor droned on about a topic they’d already covered and when the review was over, everyone was asked to stand up, find a partner, and work on some warm up exercises. Inigo slowly stood up and reminded himself that dance was something he loved, something he wanted to continue to do. Even if he hadn’t returned to Regna Ferox Theater since The Incident.

“Inigo?”

One of his classmates, a girl named Silvia that Inigo had shared a few classes with, walked up to him and gave her best smile. “Want to be partners?”

She held out her hand and for a moment Inigo saw a larger hand, one that had held a pistol and Inigo tenderly at the same time, before it vanished. Silvia’s hands were delicate and soft. Inigo exhaled deeply and shoved all of his thoughts away.

“Sure, I do.” Inigo gave a smile. “I’d love to.”

“Great.” Silvia pranced over to the middle of the room. “You know, it’s nice to see you smile.”

Inigo blinked as he followed her. “It is?”

“Yes.” Silvia began to stretch. “You’ve just been looking so tired and somber as of late.” She then stretched down to touch her toes. “It’s sort of strange.”

Inigo thickly swallowed and gave a small laugh. “Just been busy is all. School work and job stress.”

Silvia stood up and nodded. “I understand. That happens. Let’s not burn ourselves out this early in the semester though.”

“Right.” Inigo scuttled to the side. “Let’s warm up now.”

With that, the topic dropped, and Inigo forced himself to work through the class.

 

~

 

Going to classes and out for chores was nothing in comparison to the stress of being at work. Inigo at first wanted to quit the job, find somewhere else, but the hours he worked were minimal and the owners were understandable of his dance and school schedule. Plus the stress of picking up a new job would be just another thing to add to his pile. So, Inigo decided to suck it up and continue working.

For the most part the stress came from the customers and Inigo never knowing who would walk in. Most of the time Inigo jumped when the bell at the door rang as it opened, and there was always a brief bubble of anxiety, like the last bit of carbonation in a soft drink, before it vanished upon seeing the customers. Sometimes it lingered a bit, particularly if they were too quiet or looked a certain way, but Inigo couldn’t be jumpy his entire life. So, Inigo did his best to work through his anxiety. He’d come up with an innocent backstory to every customer or he’d get them to talk. That would ease a bit of his nerves.

However, closing was the worst. Inigo tried his best to avoid closing shifts, giving them away to others, trading them, but he couldn’t do that forever. So, when the clock on the counter ticked towards close, Inigo kept his eyes glued on it, watching the second hand tick away. His eyes jumped at the shadows that played from the outside, the days getting shorter and the night coming faster. Inigo’s palms were sweating, and he tried to not imagine the shadows as a person.

 

~

 

The moment Inigo stepped inside his apartment, he slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his back against the wood. His eyes frantically scanned the familiar yet menacing darkness of his home as he fumbled for the lock. As soon as the lock twisted under his shaking fingers, a sense of relief flooded him. His arms flopped to his side.

Inigo slid down the door with his back still pressed against the wood. His shirt rode up, but he didn’t care. The floor was cold under his butt. He pulled his legs to his chest and pressed his palm against his shirt, trying to calm the pounding of his heart.

It was late. Closing the shop had gone exactly as it always had: uneventfully.

Still, Inigo hadn’t relaxed until he bolted from the shop and made it back to his apartment safely. That had meant over twenty minutes of heart-stopping terror, just as it had the last ten times Inigo had locked up shop.

When there were no cars on the street, Inigo walked in the middle of the road to keep from lingering too close to any alleys. He tensed at every shadow and jogged the whole way home. Even now that he was back in his apartment, he still didn’t feel safe. Not until several tense minutes of panting in the dark passed,  and Inigo figured that anyone hanging around would have shot him by now. Assuming anyone still cared about killing him at all.

“Damn it,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against his knees. His muscles were tight with anxiety.

He couldn’t keep doing this. This wasn’t healthy. This wasn’t _sustainable_.

Inigo needed to _talk_ to somebody, at the very least. He couldn’t keep his fears bottled up forever. He’d go crazy if he tried. He needed somebody to tell him it was okay, that he was safe, that nobody was ever going to hunt him down ever again.

But who? A therapist? How could Inigo explain where his fears were coming from? Other than the fact Inigo was still very resolutely Not Thinking About The Incident, he wasn’t sure the legality of it all. Would a therapist be obligated to report Inigo’s story to the police? Probably. Would that be safe for _Inigo_? For his family? Probably not.

The only person who could have possibly understood Inigo’s fear would have been—

No. No, Inigo hadn’t seen Xander since that terrible night, and if it was in his power, Inigo would never see him again. It wasn’t safe.

 _Xander_ wasn’t safe, no matter how sad he looked or how many apologies he whispered into Inigo’s hair. No matter how safe he’d made Inigo feel once upon a time. Obviously that safety had just been an illusion from the start. Xander was a man who could kill him with the snap of his fingers, even if he said he wouldn’t.

That was part of the reason Inigo had lived in constant fear for the last few weeks. Not only was Inigo afraid of some rival gang trying to kill him for his former connection to Xander, he was also afraid that Xander would change his mind. Inigo had seen plenty of movies. He knew how this went. It was in Xander’s best interests to take out Inigo, the liability.

It didn’t matter how stricken Xander had looked when Inigo had asked if Xander was going to kill him next. It didn’t matter that Inigo hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Xander since that night—since Xander had left Inigo in the doorway of his apartment and nodded solemnly at Inigo’s pitiful plea to _“Go away. Please.”_

Xander was the one who had lied to Inigo from the start. He couldn’t be trusted at all. And even if Xander had really meant it when he said he never meant to hurt Inigo, not ever, Inigo wasn’t going to risk giving Xander any reason to change his mind.

Once upon a time, he’d thought Xander an honorable man. Maybe Xander still was, in his own way. But that wasn’t a way Inigo could understand. Xander wasn’t a person Inigo could trust.

No, he wasn’t going to talk to Xander. Not ever again.

So then who? Inigo needed to see somebody, anybody. He needed out of his own head.

Could he see Owain? Severa? How long had it been since Inigo had heard from either of them? Since before The Incident for sure. Severa and Owain had sent a few texts here and there in the group chat, but Inigo hadn’t responded. There had only been a few. Inigo couldn’t tell if Owain and Severa were just busy or if they had gotten tired of his silence and had excluded him from the messages lately. He hadn’t asked.

They were good friends, but Inigo couldn’t talk to them. Not about this. It seemed too crazy. Or worse, they’d believe him and insist he call the police immediately. That was the last thing Inigo wanted. He didn’t need a target on his back.

Part of him wished they would just come knocking on his door and ask what was up, why he’d been so quiet. But that was Inigo’s own fault too. When things had been good with Xander _—_ good in Inigo’s mind, at least, even if that hadn’t been reality _—_ he’d been busy. He hadn’t been the best about replying to Owain and Severa’s messages. He hadn’t _started_ as many messages. Not like he had when he was single. Not like before he and Xander had that talk about making more time for each other.

Inigo’s silence wasn’t so unusual now. Severa and Owain didn’t have a reason to check up on him. Painful as it was to admit, it was better this way anyway.

He still remembered what that knife had felt like under his chin. The cut had healed, but the dizzying sting of the memory hadn’t.

If Inigo breathed a single word of what had happened to anybody, then somebody else would almost certainly find out. Somebody who wouldn’t be very happy with Inigo for not keeping a secret. Whether that somebody was part of Xander’s Family or another Family’s didn’t matter. If anyone—detective or criminal _—_ was searching for the body that had disappeared from the theater that night and heard Inigo knew something about it, that would mean big trouble.

Xander hadn’t said anything outright about Inigo keeping his mouth shut, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how organized crime worked.

If he said anything at all about what had happened that night _—_ he’d be dead.

His family _—_ dead.

Severa and Owain—dead.

Inigo’s head spun. His chest burned with every breath.

That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let that happen. Inigo could _never—_

He was pressing the _Call_ button on his mother’s contact before he knew what he was doing.

The ringing of the phone was too loud in Inigo’s silent apartment. He pulled the phone away from his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, still breathing too harshly. He felt almost nauseous with anxiety.

Miraculously—unfortunately—his mother picked up.

Inigo stifled a whimper.

 _“Inigo?”_ His mother’s voice crackled to life on the other end of the phone. _“It’s late. Is something wrong?”_

When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she said again, more worriedly, _“Inigo?”_

“H-hey,” Inigo greeted, voice breaking on the first word. He pulled the phone closer. “Sorry. Just wanted to check on you. See if you were up.”

A flimsy lie.

There was shuffling on the other end of the line. Inigo thought of the time and imagined his mother sliding out of bed and into her slippers. Somewhere in the background, Inigo heard his father’s muffled voice. Somewhat more audibly, his mother waved him off, and Inigo felt guilty about that too. About the hour, about worrying them—about everything.

Once she had clearly moved to another room, she spoke again.

 _“I haven’t heard from you in a while,”_ his mother said gently. She obviously knew something was wrong. _“Is everything okay?”_

“Yeah, everything’s great,” Inigo lied. “It’s been busy, you know. With school and work and—stuff. Sorry that I’ve been quiet lately.”

_“That’s okay. I always love to hear from you, but I know you have your own life too. But you know you can call me any time, right?”_

“Yeah, I—” Inigo’s mouth went dry. “I know.”

 _“Is it_ — _You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you sound a little upset, honey. Is it school? Work?”_ She paused. _“Is it Xander?”_

Inigo made a choked sound. His squeezed the phone so tightly his fingers hurt.

 _“Oh, Inigo,”_ his mother sighed sadly. _“Did you get into a fight?”_

He bit his tongue. “Yeah, mom, we—we got into a fight. It was, ah. Pretty bad.”

_“That’s alright. Your father and I had fights before we were married too. I’m sure you two can work it out, whatever it is. Do you want to talk about it?”_

“Not really,” Inigo said. The first honest words he’d said thus far. “Mom, we—Xander and I broke up, actually.”

A fat tear rolled down Inigo’s face. His mother must have heard how wetly he sniffed because instantly he heard her voice start to water too. They were both sympathetic cryers.

 _“Oh,_ Inigo _,”_ she said again. _“It’ll be alright. Do you think it’s over then? Forever?”_

He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was still sitting on the floor in the dark, but his stomach had settled somewhat. Just hearing his mother’s voice grounded him.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, swallowing thickly. “I don’t think we’ll ever be getting back together, I mean. It was… pretty bad.”

 _Pretty bad._ That was all he could say, but those simple words didn’t even come close to describing the truth of the matter.

 _“That’s okay too,”_ his mother said, even though Inigo could tell she was disheartened. _“I know you really loved him. But there are other people out there. It hurts right now, but you’ll find someone even lovelier out there for you one day. You’ll see.”_

Finding someone new was the last thing on Inigo’s mind right now, but the part of him that was more heartbroken than afraid appreciated his mother’s words.

“I know. Thanks.”

 _“Do you want to come for a while?”_ she suggested. _“For the weekend, maybe? Just to get away?”_

Any other time, Inigo would have taken her offer up in a heartbeat. But Inigo knew he’d never be able to keep up pretenses around his mother and her curiosity. On top of that, if someone really was still following him _—_ even though Inigo hadn’t gotten the sense anyone had been since that awful night, aside from his own fears _—_ he didn’t want to risk bringing a stranger to his family’s home. He had to keep his distance, for his parent’s sake as well as his own.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, the tremble slowly beginning to leave his voice. “I just need time, I think. I just need to work on it on my own.”

_“Your father and I always love having you here.”_

“I know. I appreciate it.”

 _“Will you see some of your friends?”_ Now that she had started, she couldn’t be stopped. Olivia was in pure mom mode. _“I know when I’m sad and your father can’t be here, it always helps to talk it out with someone else. Even if it’s just on the phone.”_

“Maybe,” Inigo said. “I don’t know. They seem busy lately.”

Olivia was quiet for a moment. Inigo told himself that he should hang up the phone.

 _“What about going out by yourself?”_ she suggested.

The thought made Inigo’s chest seize. He could barely manage going to the grocery store on his own these days. But he couldn’t say that to his mother. She’d ask why.

Thankfully she continued before he could reply. _“I mean you should do something fun. Something to get your mind off things that isn’t work or class. If dancing your feelings out doesn’t help—which you know works well for me—then you should get out on your own.”_

“That’s a good suggestion,” he said, knowing he almost certainly wasn’t going to listen. “I’ll think about it.”

 _“Go to the park,”_ his mother continued. _“Look at the flowers. Explore nature. Go volunteer somewhere and help others. That’ll take your mind off things.”_

“Volunteer?” Inigo repeated. That one was a bit of a surprise.

 _“Of course,”_ she said. _“There’s nothing that helps you get your mind off your own problems like fixing other people’s.”_

Inigo paused. That… wasn’t a terrible idea.

He still hated the thought of being outside and vulnerable, but he managed well enough in class and dance practices, surrounded by people. If he was in a crowd, he was safe. Inigo had volunteered with Owain and Lucina before. He remembered what it was like. Whether they were working in a soup kitchen or under the sun, volunteers weren’t really ever alone. He remembered how good it felt to do something so productive and beneficial for people who really needed it too.

Maybe that really was Inigo needed right now. To stop wallowing in the dark—both literally and metaphorically.

Sensing that Inigo was actually considering it, his mother said, _“You still have Lucina’s number, right? I was just talking to her father the other day. They’re still building those greenhouses for the community center down here, and Lucina joins in most of the time. Maybe you can ask her to take you with her next time?”_

“Maybe,” Inigo agreed noncommittally. He needed time to think about this. But already, the more Inigo turned the thought over in his head, the more it appealed to him.

He didn’t have to drag this to his parents house. He didn’t have to see anybody if he didn’t want to. Inigo and Lucina were friends, sure, but they weren’t super close or anything. If she asked what was wrong, Inigo could tell her the lie his mother believed: that Inigo and his boyfriend had broken up, and Inigo didn’t want to talk about it.

Lucina was a nice person. She’d leave him alone if he didn’t want to talk. And she’d definitely feel fine about accepting a much needed extra pair of hands.

Inigo could smile and be polite to strangers; he did that every day. His head was scrambled, but he could still manage that much. He knew how to use a hammer and nails too.

This could work, he thought. He could regain his sense of safety again. Or at least work on it. Nobody was going to pull a knife on him while he was helping build a garden or paint some walls. He could go out and work with a bunch of strangers who didn’t mean him any harm all day long. And if he could do that, then he could eventually learn to close up the costume shop without giving himself a heart attack too.

Maybe. Eventually.

He told himself that he could do this. That he could work up to feeling okay again. If Xander stayed away, if nothing newly dangerous happened _—_ Inigo could do this. He could cope. Baby steps.

If he could deal with his fear of strangers—if he could get out of his own head—then he’d be fine.

 _“It might be a good idea,”_ his mother pressed. _“I can talk to Chrom if you want.”_

“No, no, that’s fine,” Inigo said. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ll call Lucina myself later. It’s late anyway. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

_“I wasn’t sleeping, honey, don’t worry about it. But I won’t keep you if you have to go.”_

Inigo forced himself to relax, letting the back of his head thud against the door. His eyes fell shut as he took in the sound of his mother’s voice. His one comfort left in the world.

“Yeah, I just left work, so I still have to make myself dinner. Sorry.”

 _“It’s okay,”_ she said. _“You can call us anytime. You know that.”_

“I do,” Inigo agreed. He almost smiled. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

_“I love you too, sweetie.”_

After a hesitant beat, they hung up. Inigo opened his eyes.

The room was still dark. Some of the shadows still bled from the walls like greedy claws reaching for his ankles.

Inigo sucked in a breath to steady himself. He shot to his feet and threw out his arm.

The lights switched on. The darkness dissipated, and Inigo could see. He was still alone.

His living room was empty. It was just Inigo, his stained carpet, and the pictures he’d hung up everywhere.

He was blessedly alone.

Inigo breathed out evenly and took at step towards the kitchen.

Baby steps. Baby steps.

He could do this.

 

~

 

Getting in contact with Lucina and gathering the details for the upcoming volunteer event was nerve wracking, but Inigo managed to do it through sheer will power. That, and he didn’t want his parents to worry when they inevitably phoned and asked if he went or not. Inigo wasn’t very good at lying to his parents, and he didn’t want to put himself in the position to do so.

Lucina was very accomodating, albeit a bit surprised by his call. Inigo tried to remember when he had last seen Lucina but it was coming up hazy. Still, she was a good friend and even offered to carpool. It was an option that Inigo took with immense relief. The Shepherds had many locations, and Inigo didn’t want to embarrass himself by showing up to the wrong one. Carpooling also allowed some of the anxiety of simply arriving to ebb away from Inigo. Having Lucina take care of the majority uncertainties helped Inigo get through his days leading up to the volunteer event.

When the day arrived, Inigo made sure that he was ready well before Lucina arrived to pick him up. Keeping busy helped his nerves and when Lucina’s text message lit up his phone indicating she had arrived, Inigo tried to not think about how volunteering could go wrong and instead focused on how volunteering would go right.

“Hey, Lucina,” Inigo greeted as he slid into the passenger’s side. “How are things?”

“Hello, Inigo,” Lucina warmly greeted. “It’s been such a long time! I’ve been busy but good. I admit, I was surprised to receive your text message. I am glad that you’re coming along,” Lucina added as she shifted the car into drive. “Everyone else is busy.”

Inigo almost said he knew that, at least, for Owain and Severa, but he held his tongue. “Shame. It’s been a while since we all volunteered at one of The Shepherd’s locations.”

“Maybe we can all plan one together?” Lucina asked as she drove. “I mean, if everyone isn’t too busy. Anyways, are you ready to help build greenhouses?”

Right. The main reason why Inigo was forcing himself out. “It’s been awhile since I’ve built anything, but I think I remember the basics.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lucina encouraged. “Uncle Vaike is helping out with this one. If we forget, we can always ask him.”

“Right.” Inigo nodded. “Good idea.”

Lucina shifted the car and continued to drive down the street. Inigo forced himself to sit into the car and watch the scenery. Everything flew by, and Inigo was glad. That way, he didn’t have to stare at the scenery for too long and wonder who was out there, if someone was watching him.

Shivering, Inigo curled his arms around himself. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t jump at every shadow or every person that walked by him, especially during the day. Breaking his routine was going to be more challenging than he had anticipated. Going to school and to the shop was fine somehow, and Inigo was determined to make his trip out to The Shepherds fine as well. The setting was familiar, he knew some people who were going to be there, and not ever stranger was out to get him.

Nodding to himself, Inigo held onto his thoughts and let them wash over him in comfort.

One good thing about driving up with Lucina was the fact that they were early. Inigo took comfort in the small crowds milling around as they came to a stop, Lucina parking her vehicle. Inigo could even see Vaike walking around, shirtless of course, and even from the car, Inigo could hear his laughter.

“Come on, we can change inside if we want,” Lucina told Inigo.

Inigo had already come prepared for that. He didn’t want to be stuck in a dressing room, alone and vulnerable. “I already am changed. You can go on ahead. I’ll wait by Uncle Vaike.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you out there.”

Lucina left and with that, Inigo was alone. Inhaling deeply, Inigo reminded himself that all was fine before he walked over to the crowd. No one in particular stood out, and that comforted Inigo. No one was staring at him, and he was just a regular person with a regular group of people. The only person who made note of him was Vaike, who immediately brightened and walked over to Inigo, clasping him on the shoulder. Vaike was safe. Inigo still flinched under his grasp, but only due to the sheer force of it.

“Well, well, it’s little Inigo.” Vaike beamed brightly. “Luci said you’d be joining us. Glad to have you on board!” He smacked Inigo’s back a bit. “Ready to get sweaty and work yourself out?”

“Always am,” Inigo replied with a weak smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Vaike smacked Inigo’s back again. “We’ll be starting shortly. I best go make sure things are in order.”

Inigo nodded and with that, Vaike was off. Now truly on his own for a bit, Inigo distracted himself by looking at the materials they’d be working with and the space they’d be putting the greenhouse up. There was everything from the tools they’d be using to create the greenhouses to the plants they’d be putting inside. Inigo smiled, and with the sun shining down, the day felt like it was going to go over well.

Lucina walked up to him a few minutes later, dressed down in some ratty old jeans and a shirt. Her hair was expertly braided and tucked in her shirt so it looked like she had short hair.

“Here.” She handed him some sunblock.

“Thanks.” Inigo smeared some more on himself. Best to be safe. “Looks like many people are arriving.”

“This is one of the annual events,” Lucina noted. “I’m sure many people like returning.”

Inigo nodded. “It’s a good volunteer event.”

With that, Vaike stepped up, along with some other organizers and began to talk. Inigo only half listened, used to the way things ran and how they operated. There were many jobs that required groups, then there were jobs for pairs, and finally some individual jobs. Inigo hoped he could stick with Lucina but as they were split up into sections, they were taken to different sides of the field. No matter. Inigo exhaled slowly. He could do this.

Looking at the materials he was supposed to start hauling, Inigo scanned the area for someone to assist him when his gaze fell on the closest figure.

To say that Inigo’s blood froze would be an understatement. Despite the sun, an icy feeling burned throughout his body, and Inigo’s fingers almost dropped the items he was half lifting off the ground. The only solace in the moment was Xander’s expression mirroring what Inigo felt inside. Still, that wasn’t stopping the hysterical bubble of laughter that almost burst out of Inigo’s lips. He held it in and the laughter erupted inside of him, burning and exploding so hard it hurt. Swallowing, Inigo felt panic fill his lungs along with the exploded hysteria coating his insides.

He had to go home. He had to get out of here. Why was Xander here? Was he here to take Inigo out? Were there people waiting in the shadows, watching, ready to shoot him down? Then, Inigo’s brain fried and flew off in another direction. Lucina. Was she safe? Was Vaike safe? Were the other innocent people around the area safe? What did Inigo do? Did he make a scene? Did he run away?

“Inigo.”

Xander’s voice carried softly on the wind, and the sound of it made Inigo’s heart flutter and rip at the same time. He had missed Xander’s voice. A large part of Inigo wanted to be near Xander, to dive and seek that familiarity and safeness Xander had given him.

Then, the night, “The Incident” flashed in his mind. The knife was once again pressed against Inigo’s neck, the blade digging in. The wound had long healed, but Inigo felt the ghost whispers of it tainting the edges of his mind. Everything loudly burst with the memory of the gun shot, of Xander standing there, eyes cold, gun in hand. Inigo then remembered how warm Xander had felt holding him that night and how terrified he’d been, how scared—

“Inigo.” Xander’s voice was closer. “Breathe, please.”

Now that Xander was close, Inigo could see he looked awful. His eyes were lined, tinged a bit with red, and they looked dark at a certain angle. A weariness had sunken into Xander’s entire form, and that was reflected in his eyes, in the slouch of his shoulder. His once vibrant hair looked a bit pale, a bit messy, and his skin looked a touch too white. Inigo wanted to reach out and touch Xander, ask what was wrong, but he held it in. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t get close. Not again.

Inigo exhaled very sharply and felt dizzy. “I… I need to…”

“Inigo!” Vaike suddenly was at his side, warm, heavy.

For a second, Inigo relaxed. Vaike was safe. Vaike was practically family.

Then Vaike spoke, and he went from family to traitor.

“I see you’ve met someone I haven’t seen around here in awhile,” Vaike continued cheerfully. “Inigo has been volunteering here since he was a little shit rat running around, throwing dirt at other kids.” Vaike laughed like he hadn’t just embarrassed Inigo. “So, if you two can be partnered up for this task, that would be awesome.”

No, no, it wouldn’t be. Inigo tried to open his mouth, to tell Vaike, but all he could do was watch as Vaike sauntered off, leaving Inigo with Xander. Lucina was halfway across the field and would be of no help. Inigo was on his own. This was the worst possible outcome.

A beat of silence passed before Xander spoke, his voice a bit rough, like he hadn’t received enough sleep or had talked excessively. “Inigo, please let me explain. This is merely a coincidence, I promise.”

“R-right,” Inigo managed to stammer out. He tried to not look around.

Xander’s eyes fell, and his body slouched. “I… I understand if you cannot believe me. It’s understandable. However, I am speaking the truth. My siblings just wanted me out of the house. We’ve donated excessively to The Shepherd for years, and we always like volunteering when we can. I… I can go work with someone else if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

That was the option Inigo wished he could take, but he knew how things were set up. He had to work with Xander now. Everyone else was paired off, and asking strangers who may have come with someone they knew to switch would be difficult.

“Let’s just work, please,” Inigo begged.

“All right,” Xander agreed.

With that, they began their tasks, moving materials over to the other teams. Watching Xander work in jeans and rolled up sleeves was a bit distracting. Inigo’s heart was very conflicted, and seeing Xander’s muscles strain was adding to his conflicted nature. Inigo wanted to run away. He also wanted to walk into Xander’s arms and try trusting him again. It hurt, and all Inigo could do was suffer in silence. Working allowed Inigo to distract himself and talk minimally to Xander. They communicated only when necessary and with the physical task of moving things, it allowed Inigo to block everything out.

It was only when they were moving some plants over that Inigo’s legs caught in a small dip in the ground he hadn’t noticed before. Shifting his weight, Inigo tried to regain his balance but couldn’t. He would have toppled over had Xander not caught him.

As Inigo fell into Xander’s arm, the arm curling around his waist, it was like two puzzle pieces finally connecting. Being in Xander’s arms felt right, natural, and with the way Xander reflexively curled around Inigo’s waist, it sent flutters within Inigo. For a split second, everything felt safe, secure; but then Inigo remembered the blood and the gunshot, and he ripped himself out of Xander’s arms so quickly that it felt like his skin was being ripped clean from his bones.

Xander was staring at his arm and for a moment, Inigo saw a deeply sad expression wash over Xander, like a tidal wave of inner thoughts suddenly bursting through his mask. Inigo’s heart clenched, and he opened his mouth to talk to Xander but nothing came out. A second later Xander looked fine, though still weary and exhausted.

“Thanks,” Inigo muttered, wanting the situation to smooth over to their awkward neutrality. “For catching me.”

Xander looked at his arm before he nodded, almost to himself. “Any time.”

It sounded to Inigo, for yet another moment of insanity, that Xander was implying he’d catch Inigo as many times as needed. Except, Xander had been the one to drop him in the first place, and now all Inigo could do was try to piece his broken self together and desperately try to not trust Xander anymore, no matter how badly his foolish heart wanted him to.

This afternoon was going to be a long one.

 

~

 

Xander didn’t touch him again.

Inigo didn’t let him.

To be fair to Xander—though Inigo didn’t really want to be—it wasn’t as though Xander ever reached out to brush against him on purpose. Inigo would have noticed that; his anxiety made him overly vigilant, always peaking out at Xander from the corner of his eye when they bent down to pick something up or turn away for a moment. But Xander didn’t reach for him, and Inigo was very careful not to trip again.

He didn’t think Xander was going to pull out a knife and kill him right there. Not after the first few panic-filled minutes of their meeting passed. Truthfully, he was tentatively willing to take Xander’s awkward explanation of their meeting being a coincidence as truth; Inigo couldn’t imagine how running into each other would have benefitted Xander otherwise. Xander didn’t seem like the type to knife him in broad daylight, anyway.

That didn’t make being around Xander _smart_ , however, no matter how Inigo’s dumb body had betrayed him for that half second Xander’s hands were on his skin. And hadn’t that been the second biggest surprise of the day?

Inigo’s brain recognized the problem, remembered the shock of Xander’s truth like a baseball bat to the temple. His brain was stuck in permanent survival mode. But apparently Inigo’s skin had never reeled from the same revelation. His body was still lagging behind in memories of when Xander’s touch had only meant _good_ things.

His skin only remembered Xander’s comforting arm around his shoulders when they walked down the street, Xander’s warm presence by his side when they shared a couch, Xander’s broad palm on his back when they laid in bed together, Xander’s lips on his forehead as Inigo came apart from a revelation he’d never wanted to know—

He shut down that line of thought immediately.

That last one wasn’t a comfort. Could never be a comfort. Not after what Inigo had seen.

They didn’t speak again as they worked. Xander didn’t extend any sort of peace offering, and Inigo didn’t offer any of his own. It was strictly business.

It wasn’t as though digging small holes and settling planks of wood upright in them took much verbal communication in the first place.

Or, maybe it did. But when Xander picked up a large slab of wood, Inigo reached out to steady it without being told. When Inigo offered up the handle of a hammer, Xander took it without speaking. Their hands did not come close to brushing.

They managed, and they said nothing.

There was nothing _to_ be said.

And eventually, after a handful of tense hours, they were done.

“Alright, that’s a wrap, everyone!” Vaike said some yards away through a megaphone Inigo had seen before. Inigo straightened, ignoring the ache in his back. “It’s going to rain soon, so we’re wrapping up early for the day. Be sure to come back tomorrow if you can! If you need to reschedule, talk to the Vaike—that’s me—and we’ll get you straightened out.”

Sure enough, when Inigo looked up, the nice skies of the early morning had been replaced with dreary clouds. He’d been too caught up in his own thoughts and keeping a proper distance between himself and Xander to notice the shift in weather.

A raindrop fell onto the tip of his nose.

Inigo blinked in surprise and tilted his head back down to eye level. Vaike was still making announcements over the megaphone, but his words were more garbled now that everyone had begun picking up their belongings and chatting with their friends again as they made their way over to the parking lot. Inigo barely caught sight of Xander respectfully nodding his head in his direction before Xander too disappeared into the crowd.

It was a rather anticlimactic goodbye.

Inigo opened his mouth. Then he closed it.

He wasn’t going to call after Xander. He didn’t need to. The very fact he’d thought about it, however briefly, was stupid. And dangerous. There was still nothing to say.

“Hey, Inigo!” Lucina clapped him on the shoulder, nearly frightening Inigo out of his own skin before he realized who it was. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Talk about bad luck, right?”

He belatedly realized Lucina meant the rain and not Xander. “Yeah. Pretty bad luck.”

A few more raindrops plopped onto both of their heads. Lucina wrinkled her nose.

“We should get in the car before the rain really picks up,” she said. They started moving with the crowd towards the parking lot. “How was it overall though? It’s been a while since you’ve been here. Was it just as fun as you remember?”

“Sure,” Inigo said breezily. Noncommittally. “What about you?”

“I’m here all the time,” Lucina reminded him with a smile. “But yes, today was good for me too. We didn’t get as much done as I would have hoped for, but some things are just out of our control, I suppose.”

She glanced up at the skies meaningfully.

Inigo nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “Yeah. I guess so.”

They reached the car. Lucina reached for the driver’s side door handle as Inigo rounded the other side, but she hesitated before climbing in.

“Are you alright?” Lucina asked. “You’re a little quiet.”

“Great!” Inigo flashed her a smile, his own hand resting on his door. “Guess I’m just a little more tired than I thought.”

Lucina tilted her head and climbed in the car. Inigo followed her lead.

“I thought all that dancing would have kept you in shape,” she said lightly, teasing. “Don’t worry. We can work on that tomorrow. Though if this weather continues…”

She peered up at the clouds through her windshield as though the rain was going to give her a reply. Inigo averted his eyes.

“We’ll take a raincheck,” he said jokingly. Truthfully, he wasn’t planning on coming back anytime soon. Not of Xander would be there. Coincidence or not, this attempt to learn how to leave the house again was a failure through and through.

Thankfully Lucina seemed to take that as the end of the conversation for the moment. She started the car, and they began to slowly make their way out of the parking lot. Inigo’s thoughts turned inward.

He reflected on the past two hours or so he’d been alone with Xander. Not literally alone—there had been other volunteers surrounding them at all times. But metaphorically alone, as they had worked in silence.

 _Should_ Inigo have said something? Had his silence been too rude? Too telling? Did Xander know Inigo was a coward who lived on the knife’s edge of fear now? Had he convinced Xander that it was better to change his mind and take Inigo out before he let something slip?

No. No matter what Inigo’s anxieties were telling him, that didn’t sound right. He didn’t think Xander would hurt him. Not really. Seeing Xander today had reminded him of that, had overlapped the memory of Xander The Criminal with Xander, The Man Inigo Had Trusted Once.

Whatever truths Xander had been keeping from Inigo during their time together, Inigo had gotten to know him, at least a little. Or, he’d gotten to know a part of Xander. Maybe only a small part. Maybe a not so small part. Inigo didn’t know.

But even though Inigo couldn’t trust him, even though Xander was irrefutably a killer, even though just _being_ in Xander’s presence was dangerous—

Deep down, Inigo didn’t truly think Xander was going to purposely hurt him.

After all—

 _He did it to_ protect _you_ , a treacherous voice whispered in the back of Inigo’s mind not for the first time. _He said he only wanted you safe._

It was a dangerous line of thinking.

Because Inigo didn’t _want_ that kind of protection. He didn’t _want_ the threat of violence looming over his head. Inigo didn’t _want_ his future husband to live that kind of life, no matter how willing or capable Xander had been to shield Inigo from the worst of it.

Well. At least the future husband thing wasn’t a problem anymore. And the rest of it wouldn’t be either, so long as Inigo actually managed to stay away from Xander for the foreseeable future.

“Do you want the radio on?” Lucina asked as they merged onto the main road. Inigo jerked away from the window and out of his thoughts. “Inigo?”

“Yes!” he said, too quickly. Then he amended: “Oh, you know, anything’s fine by me.”

Lucina sent him another amused smile. Inigo hoped she chalked any weirdness up to his excuse of being tired.

The radio was turned on. Lucina and Inigo exchanged small talk over the next few minutes because it would have been rude not to, and as a friend, Inigo was genuinely curious about Lucina’s life. But his heart wasn’t really in it. His mind kept drifting back to Xander and that split second of bodily betrayal where Xander had touched him and Inigo hadn’t been afraid. Then he would catch the tail end of Lucina’s sentence and tune in just enough to fake like his was focused.

“Here we go,” Lucina said as they pulled up outside Inigo’s apartment. Rain continued to drizzle onto the windshield. “Call me anytime you want to volunteer again. We can always use the extra help!”

“Of course!” Inigo laughed, only partly forced. “The next time I get a free moment in my schedule, I’ll let you know. Thanks so much for the ride!”

“Anytime!”

Inigo quickly slid out of the car and into the rain. Lucina waited until he made it to the front doors of his apartment complex and under the awning before she pulled away. Inigo made sure to keep waving and not let his posture drop until she rounded the corner.

When she was out of sight, his shoulders slumped. He was tired in more ways than one. Inigo stepped inside and took the elevator up to his floor.

He was only a little damp when he reached in his pocket to take out his keys, but he was still looking forward to slipping into a new pair of clothes.

The key slid in the lock easily. Inigo stepped into his apartment, but he didn’t close the door behind him. Light from the hallway bled into the shadows of his living room.

The rainclouds outside blocked most of the natural light that would have shone into Inigo’s kitchen. It was dark inside Inigo’s apartment. He couldn’t completely tell where the furniture ended and the wall began.

Inigo’s heartbeat spiked. His hand hovered over the lightswitch by the door for a deadly moment. He squeezed his eyes shut and flipped the switch without looking. Then his eyes shot open.

He breathed in sharply.

Just like always, there was nobody there.

Inigo stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

 

~

 

That night, Inigo dreamed of Xander. He dreamt of Xander’s hands on him, warm, comforting. They trailed down Inigo’s back and curled protectively around his waist. Xander’s lips brushed Inigo’s ears, and he whispered something that was unintelligible but Inigo’s heart fluttered anyways.

Then the scene changed. Xander was still holding Inigo, but his hands were covered in blood and his eyes were stormy. Something metallic pressed against Inigo’s back, and Inigo instantly knew a second later it was a gun. Inigo struggled against Xander but was unable to escape his iron grip. Xander, whose eyes were dark and unreadable, leaned forward and kissed Inigo on the forehead, smearing blood across Inigo’s forehead. In the distance, Inigo heard a gunshot and the sickening splat of a body.

He wanted to scream, but instead Inigo felt his body sink into Xander’s. His dream played differently than the night of “The Incident.”

Inigo woke up a moment later, his bed feeling just a bit too cold, too empty, and his skin tingling.

 

~

 

_“How did volunteering go, sweetie?”_

Olivia’s voice rang lightly in Inigo’s ears through his headphones. Inigo curled on his couch and played with the cord a little bit.

“Everything went well,” Inigo said. In general, things had gone well, excluding his accidental run in with Xander. “Though we had to end early due to the rain.”

 _“I see.”_ Olivia’s voice sounded bright. _“I’m glad to hear that, Inigo. I know volunteering always has a way of cheering people up.”_

“It does,” Inigo agreed, still curling the headphone cord around his finger. “Thank you for suggesting it. I wouldn’t have thought of volunteering at first.”

 _“It’s never a problem,”_ Olivia replied before there was a pause. _“And, Inigo, you know if anything happens you can talk to us, right?”_

This was the second time Olivia had mentioned it to Inigo within back to back phone calls. However, unlike last time, Inigo didn’t feel as much of a tug and pull in his heart. There still was a pull, the desire to spill everything to his mother, but Inigo held it back.

“I know, mother. Thanks. I love you.”

_“I love you too, sweetie.”_

 

~

 

Reworking up the energy to go out after volunteering was a challenge. It was as though Inigo had used all of his energy reserves in a single outing. Pulling himself out of bed the next day to go to school and do work was painful, but Inigo forced himself to do it. Routine had to be reestablished.

Even though volunteering ended in somewhat of a disaster, Inigo knew his mother had been on the right track. He had to get out and make something out of himself, even if it was something small. Inigo couldn’t wallow inside forever.

So, a few days after volunteering and phoning his mother (and his strange dream which Inigo was _not_ going to read into), Inigo decided he could keep pushing himself, venturing outward and out of his comfort zone. The run in with Xander was a coincidence (Inigo had to believe that or he’d lose his mind), and Inigo had to move on with his life. In a strange way, seeing Xander again almost gave him that clarity. Xander hadn’t pushed, hadn’t tried to corner Inigo or get him to talk. He only touched Inigo to save him from falling, and it wasn’t as though seeing Inigo suddenly sparked Xander into trying to contact him. Life was continuing on, and Inigo had to flow with life or be swept away.

When Inigo finished breakfast on the weekend, he stood up, put his light jacket on, and went out for a walk. Small steps were what he needed, and perhaps going to familiar places was what Inigo had to do. He took a jog around his block, and then he ventured a little bit further. The cool, crisp morning air would warm up later, and the feel of it against Inigo’s skin motivated him.

He aimlessly wandered around, only picking places on the fly. Inigo visited an old dance studio in the neighborhood that he used to attend. He went to the local park, and then he walked down the street towards the downtown, simply looking at some shops.

Inigo ended up half an hour later in front of the coffee shop he had visited with Owain and Severa. As he walked up to the shop, Inigo’s throat dried and his heart pounded a little slower in his chest. This was the shop where he told Owain and Severa about Xander. His fingers brushed against one of the chairs that were stacked, the mornings and afternoons still a bit too crisp for the patio furniture to be out. Inigo walked inside and ordered a coffee, burning his tongue slightly as he drank it, and continued to walk around.

The shops were slowly becoming busy with people, and Inigo tried to relish in the crowd. Everyone was simply a normal person out on a normal day doing normal things. Things that had zero to do with Inigo. He sipped his coffee and continued on his way, enjoying the freedom to choose where he was going.

It was probably a mistake of him to be so mindless. A few minutes later, Inigo stopped in front of the art gallery. The same art gallery he had his first real date with Xander. Inigo’s hands tightened around his half empty coffee cup, and for a moment Inigo almost walked away.

However, this was about seizing the moment, right? This walk was about sporadic intentions and Inigo feeling free from fear. At the last moment, Inigo turned and walked up the stairs to the museum. If he could have his own experience at the museum, then it wouldn’t just be “the place Xander and I went to once upon a time.” Inigo had the power to rewrite memories with newer ones and make the older memories feel faded and distant.

Inside, Inigo walked further in and donated to the museum for his entrance fee. He then walked and looked at the galleries. They had obviously changed since he was last there, and the place was sporting more sculpture and installation pieces than traditional paintings. Inigo smiled and enjoyed the shift, walking around. Some of the sculptures were a “look, don’t touch” sort of deal, but some allowed people to walk in and around. Inigo enjoyed the unique experience the galleries were giving and smiled to himself. Inigo entered into the next section of the gallery and then found himself pausing.

This couldn’t be a coincidence. That wasn’t possible. Two times in a row when he went out? Inigo’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup as he looked at Xander’s broad back. Xander, who hadn’t noticed him yet, was examining one of the sculptures but soon enough he turned and spotted Inigo.

Again, Xander looked just as stricken in seeing Inigo as he had during volunteering. He still looked ragged, dark eyes, pale skin, ruffled hair. He still looked like he was carrying something wary and hadn’t figured out a way to unpack it.

Inigo knew the logical response was to just walk away, not say anything. But perhaps going out and about reminded had Inigo he had a spine. Sure, Xander would tell Inigo that this too was a coincidence, and really, what else could Inigo believe for his own sanity? However, that didn’t mean Inigo had to leave the museum. The museum was public property, and if Inigo wanted to be in the museum he could. He didn’t have to feel ashamed or scared.

With that in mind, Inigo walked past Xander, not saying anything. As far as anyone else in the museum was concerned—and there were people, both workers and patrons—they were strangers. However, as Inigo passed Xander, he could smell his cologne, the spicy, subtle smell that always made Inigo feel warm. Suddenly all Inigo could think of was how warm it was nestled on the couch with Xander and how nice Xander had always smelled. Inigo could remember Xander’s hands on him a thousand times over, and he discovered that this was worse than when they ran into each other during volunteering. Sure, during volunteering they spoke and Xander touched him to prevent Inigo from face planting, but outside Inigo couldn’t smell Xander. He smelled the wood and the plants and the wind. Here, in the proximity of the museum, Xander was all Inigo could smell. It made his heart thump like a traitor in his chest.

Pulling himself away with a half distressed groan on his lips, Inigo hurried off, darting around the corner like a coward. Pressing his hand to his chest, Inigo hated how his heart rate had picked up and how his skin felt flushed. Turning around, Inigo half expected Xander behind him, wanting to offer an explanation of some sort.

Xander wasn’t there, and when Inigo poked his head around the corner, he didn’t see Xander anymore. Inigo’s heart sank a bit, and he tried to lie to himself that it was sinking in relief that Xander wasn’t chasing him, wanting to talk to him.

The lie was flimsy, but it was all Inigo had.

 

~

 

Inigo stood there for a moment longer, fiddling with his phone, but Xander didn’t reappear. Inigo couldn’t even pretend to be looking at the screen. He kept his head down and mentally willed the too-fast beating of his heart to fade. The smell of Xander’s cologne failed to reappear in the air.

He told himself that this was a good thing, that forcing himself out of his apartment had done wonders for his courage despite the nightmare he’d had the other night. He’d walked passed Xander without even balking. The Inigo of a week ago would _never_ have been able to manage that, he told himself. That had to count for something, even if goosebumps had broken out all over Inigo’s skin the moment he rounded the corner and disappeared from Xander’s line of sight.

He _was_ getting better. He _could_ do this.

Part of Inigo wasn’t so sure the pounding of his heart was out of fear, however. The implications of that weren’t something he wanted to linger on though. Inigo’s feelings regarding the overall situation hadn’t changed, and as he tucked his phone back into his pocket, he realized the thinning crowd of the museum suddenly felt a lot less comforting now that Xander was gone.

Maybe _because_ Xander was gone.

He tried to ignore the implications of that too. He didn’t let himself march out of the museum immediately either, even though the idea of tucking himself safely behind his apartment door was rather appealing at the moment.

Instead, Inigo willed himself to take a step away from the wall. Then another. He kept walking.

The next room Inigo visited was filled with paintings. They were nice to look at, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the heads in the room, searching for a particular shade of blond. There were a variety of other patrons walking around with him—a man wearing a stylish scarf, a family with twins, a cute girl with cotton candy hair—but no Xander. He was long gone.

Inigo told himself that the conflicted feeling in his chest was simply relief.

Wandering from room to room became easier after that. Or so Inigo pretended. But by the time he was walking down the steps of the museum with the early afternoon sun hanging overhead, he did feel nearly normal. It was a nice reprieve.

It would have been easy to go home now that Inigo didn’t have the remainder of the museum calling to him. But the last time he’d gone home alone after running into Xander, Inigo had shut himself up in his apartment and only left when necessary. He was out of chores or school work to do. There was nothing waiting for him there.

Today was about pushing himself, getting out of his comfort zone. It was about replacing bad memories with good ones.

So he couldn’t go home. Not yet.

At the bottom of the stairs, Inigo tugged his phone out of his pocket once more. He quickly scrolled through his texts. There was a message from his mother and another from his father, separately. He had a few Instagram alerts. But there were no new messages from anyone else.

For a moment, his thumb hovered over the group chat with Owain and Severa. It had a been quite a while since any of them had written in it. Inigo ached to hear from them now, even if only to talk about something stupid.

He almost tapped the chat icon.

But then he realized that no matter what they talked about, Owain or Severa would eventually ask what Inigo had been up to the past few weeks. And that was a question he definitely couldn’t answer. He didn’t have anything truthful he wanted to tell them, and his stomach churned at the thought of lying to them any more than he had already lied to his mother. He couldn’t message them. Inigo didn’t know how to get back to normal just yet.

He would. At some point. That was what leaving the apartment was all about—adjusting to “normal.” He was simply still working on it.

Later, he told himself. When he wasn’t jumping at shadows, when he could withstand the weight of his friend’s well-meaning questions, when the warmth of Xander’s hand wasn’t ghosting along his hip when he closed his eyes for too long—

He’d message them then.

Inigo put his phone away and looked around. It was a nice day still, and he had some energy left. He’s stick to crowded streets and wouldn’t linger too close to sunset, but there was more that could be explored before the day was up. He was peckish anyway.

So he picked a direction and started walking.

 

~

 

Inigo’s brain was firing all cylinders when the car pulled up alongside him on the street. His heart skipped a beat. The day was still young and the sunlight strong, but he was still debating the merits of breaking into a sprint when the car window rolled down and a familiar voice drifted from within.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Basilio said.

Inigo’s shoulders dropped with relief. He almost couldn’t believe his ears. “Uncle Basilio? What are you doing in town?”

Basilio stopped the car entirely. Normally Inigo might have protested, but Basilio had always done things his own way and there were no other cars coming down the street anyway.

“Business,” Basilio said simply. “But I’m done for the day. You getting in or what?”

Ingio wasn’t really in a hurry to go anywhere, but Basilio was a familiar face and Inigo was constantly craving human contact these days. Friendly faces had been in short supply lately, even if Basilio had given him a brief heart attack.

He didn’t think there was much he’d have to lie about to Basilio either. Basilio, though he’d known Inigo since he was born, wasn’t involved in Inigo’s life the same way his friends or parents were, so Inigo wouldn’t have to keep up the same facades with him.

That assumption was proven wrong when, upon Inigo climbing into the passenger seat and the car pulling away from the curb, Basilio promptly said, “So I heard you got dumped.”

If he had the ability, Inigo would have immediately climbed out of the car and run down the street.

Basilio guffawed. “That look on your face says it all! What, do you want to talk about something else? How’s Lon’qu’s kid then? Aren’t you two still friends?”

Inigo didn’t really want to talk about Owain either. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what Owain was up to recently. Talking about being “dumped” wasn’t any more pleasant an option, but at least Inigo had more of an excuse not to talk about it.

“Why do you even know about that?” Inigo said, choosing the lesser of two evils. He flushed and hoped Basilio would take it as embarrassment. “Have you been gossiping with my mom?”

“Yep, because I have nothing better to do,” Basilio confirmed. Then he rolled his good eye. “‘Course not. But your mother and I do still catch up every now and again, you know.”

Inigo did know. He flushed some more.

“First of all,” Inigo said with more confidence than he really felt, “ _I_ didn’t get dumped. _I_ broke up with him. So jot that down.”

Basilio gave him a sidelong glance, some of the mirth dropping from his features. “Is that so?”

Inigo’s shoulders hunched. He looked away.

Because it wasn’t really true. Or, maybe in another life where murder and guns and all of those other things weren’t part of the equation, Inigo could have broken up with Xander like a normal person. They could have sat down and had an amicable conversation, and Inigo could have cried into a tub of ice cream like a normal person. At least then Inigo could have said he’d really done the dumping.

But in this life, Inigo just… hadn’t called Xander after. He’d told Xander to leave, and Xander had. There wasn’t any official breakup. There had been no big fight, despite what his mother believed. Not a _traditional_ fight anyway. Inigo had panicked and cried, and then Xander had disappeared like a ship in the night. Inigo might have run into him twice now, but their relationship was still over. It didn’t matter whether or not they’d had an official “talk.” It just made Inigo feel a bit better to pretend he’d had more agency in the decision than he really had.

Basilio stretched his neck and tapped his finger on the steering wheel. Inigo shifted in his seat. They were stopped at a light, and the air in the car had shifted to to something heavy. Basilio could clearly feel it too.

He wasn’t exactly a traditional uncle to Inigo. At least, he wasn’t like the uncles Inigo had seen on TV. Basilio hadn’t been around for every holiday. As a child, Inigo could easily go months without seeing Basilio despite the fact they lived in the same town. The man was more his mother’s friend than Inigo’s uncle, despite the name. Inigo remembered the many times he’d stumbled into the living room after playing outside only to find his mother giddy with laughter because of something Basilio had said on the other end of the phone. She and Basilio had been friends long before Inigo had even been born.

But he also remembered how Basilio had given him a gift every birthday growing up, and he still recalled how impossibly tall he felt hoisted up on Basilio’s shoulders as a child. He remembered Basilio ruffling his hair and showing him exactly where to hit somebody if they were giving him a hard time when his mother’s back was turned. Inigo had never called Basilio for advice, but he’d always been a reliable figure in Inigo’s memory.

So it both was and wasn’t a surprise when Basilio said, “Look, I don’t know why you broke up or what you’re dealing with now. That’s not my business either. But here’s some advice since you look so glum. If you regret breaking up, then do something about it. Apologize, make up for your mistake, whatever you have to do. Whether or not he takes you back is another story. But you’ll never find out unless you get off your ass and do something about it.”

Something churned in Inigo’s stomach uncomfortably.

“What if I don’t want to get back together?” He didn’t think about the words or what he was really asking.

“Then don’t,” Basilio said simply. “It’s your choice. If you feel good about your decision, then that’s it. But don’t just sit around your house being a sad sack all day. You made a choice, so stick by it.”

“Who said I was sitting around my house?” Inigo protested. For any other adult, he would have made the effort to be more polite, but Basilio was no pushover. He saw right through Inigo anyway. “You just caught me on a walk not two minutes ago.”

Basilio scoffed playfully. “It’s written all over your face, kid.”

Obviously he found the unimpressed look Inigo shot him to be funny because he laughed again. Then Basilio continued:

“Seriously, I’m only saying this because your mom talks about you all the time. I trust you to handle your own problems. But maybe handle them a little faster so I don’t have to hear about it so much the next time I call Olivia about lunch.”

Inigo made another face. This time he could tangibly feel the sadness that bled into his expression, but there was nothing he could do about it. Basilio must have noticed, but he thankfully said nothing.

Another beat passed before Inigo slowly asked, “What if you didn’t really want to break up with someone, but... circumstances outside your control demanded it?”

Basilio made an acknowledging noise.

Inigo bit his lower lip and clarified, “Like, what if you learned something about them that you couldn’t live with?”

He didn’t really know why he was asking. Maybe he was hoping Basilio was going to validate him in some way, tell Inigo that he made the right choice even without knowing all the details. He wanted something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Inigo was tired.

“It’s cost-benefit analysis, simple as that,” Basilio said. “Is being with them worth putting up with everything else? If not, then move on. If it is, then you both need to work for it. That’s when the real fight begins.”

He made it sound so easy, Inigo thought with despair. It wasn’t laid out so plainly in Inigo’s head. Not anymore.

Inigo didn’t like the reminder that the rest of him didn’t agree with his brain about how to feel whenever he ran into Xander either.

“That’s the price of admission into any relationship,” Basilio continued. “Can you put up with their bagging in exchange for being with them? Can they put up with _your_ bagging in exchange for being with you? That’s a choice we all have to make at some point or another.”

Inigo was still digesting that when Basilio said, a bit slower, “Sometimes it’s not cowardly to decide you can’t do it. Sometimes that’s just smart.”

That gave Inigo pause.

He put a brief hold on his own inner turmoil to look at Basilio. This was a man who had known Inigo since birth, and suddenly Inigo realized he didn’t really know anything about Basilio’s private life. Sure, he’d heard comments here and there about Basilio’s less than wholesome exploits in the past, but Inigo suddenly realized he’d never seen Basilio with any kind of long term partner.

Was that because Basilio liked it that way, Inigo wondered, or was there a deeper story there than Inigo had just never thought about asking?

The silence stretched on long enough for Basilio to take notice.

He tilted his head in Inigo’s direction. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

Inigo closed his mouth and swallowed his questions. Reluctantly, he thought about it.

After a moment of reflection, he told himself that there wasn’t a debate about what he should do at all. It was just his stupid body that had made him waver twice now. It was only memories that had given him pause whenever Xander’s name came up, and most of those were tainted now anyway.

It was only memories that made Inigo’s breath hitch when he thought of Xander catching him again. It was only residual fear that had made Inigo shiver when Xander left the museum and he realized he was all alone. He remembered how Xander looked with that gun in hand. There was nothing more to it.

There weren’t any real feelings left between them. After what Inigo had witnessed, how could there be? There was no fixing that, no matter what Inigo might have dreamed for himself and Xander once upon a time.

He had new dreams now. They weren’t pleasant.

He wouldn’t have even been thinking about what he and Xander both would have to give up to be together again if Basilio hadn’t suddenly sprung the conversation on him in the first place.

 _Not_ that Inigo was thinking about it now.

“You and your mother honestly make the same faces,” Basilio said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You both need to get out of your own heads.”

Inigo pressed his lips together childishly. “It doesn’t hurt to spend a little more time thinking and a little less time doing, you know.”

“Yeah, well, try not to flip a breaker in that brain of yours from trying too hard.” Basilio laughed at his own joke. “But seriously, I have a much more important question for you.”

Inigo steeled himself.

“I’ve been driving around in circles for the past ten minutes,” Basilio said. “Am I dropping you off somewhere or what?”

 

~

 

After blushing furiously at not realizing Basilio had been driving in circles Inigo managed to stammer out a request to be dropped off at his apartment. Basilio had given a good natured laugh and hadn’t commented further. Inigo sunk into the passenger’s seat and allowed Basilio to talk to him. The man was just as pleasant as always, able to bring up any topic with casual ease. He always asked the questions adults asked children, but the way he did it never failed to make Inigo feel comfortable. There was never any judgement in Basilio’s voice and it made discussion flow with ease. It was almost enough for Inigo to feel sad the visit was over when he saw his apartment building.

“Here we are.” Basilio said as he pulled the car to the sidewalk.

“Thank you, Uncle Basilio.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re welcome. Now, get out of my car.” Basilio flippantly replied with a wave of his hand. Except his voice was light and a grin was on his face.

Inigo gathered his things. “Right. Thanks again.” He stepped out, shut the door to the car, a smile worming on his face.

Inigo didn’t wait to watch Basilio drive off. Instead, he headed to his apartment building. Inside the apartment wasn’t different but the air felt different to Inigo. Lighter, fresher. Basilio’s advice swirled lightly in his head, about baggage and if it was worth trying to accept. The question all relationships had to ask and the answers Inigo didn’t have. However, Inigo’s heart didn’t palpitate in his chest and squeeze. His breath didn’t shorten and nothing fluttered in his chest. The afternoon melted and molded into a single entity, a single memory. Inigo still didn’t know his answer to Basilio’s question, about what he wanted to do. However, Basilio’s advice about moving on and not being glum—or as Basilio had put it a “sad sack” — was something Inigo had to do. Perhaps accidentally running into Xander in the museum was a good thing. Inigo needed some semblance of closure. He wasn’t going to call Xander and have the traditional talk and Inigo suspected Xander wasn’t going to call him either. Things were going to continue on in an awkward, silent stalemate.

Whatever Xander’s views on him in regards to liability or not still sent a full body shiver down Inigo’s spine. The bite of uncertainty had long since festered not just in his skin but in his blood and bones. Inigo knew that at any moment the infection from the uncertainty could overtake him and consume him. The only cure for uncertainty was feeling certain. Again, Inigo wasn’t going to receive that from Xander, so he had to create his own certainty.

No matter how difficult and impossible the task felt.

 

~

 

That night Inigo dreamt of a spicy smell—burnt cinnamon and nutmeg tinged with caramelized devotion, secrecy, and sunkissed metal. There was nothing else to his dream, no other impression or vision. When Inigo woke up he swore he could taste the smell, like mulled, hot apple cider mixed with gunpowder. He grimaced at the taste and went to rinse his mouth. The sun was up and Inigo had classes. After he rinsed his mouth with a bit too warm water he looked in the mirror.

Nothing had really changed in his complexion. He still looked a bit too pale, a bit too worn out. He felt exactly how he looked, like his skin was stretched a bit too far over his bones. Touching his face Inigo sighed and turned the tap on to wash up. Water dripped down his face and spilled over his hands. Inigo dried his face off and looked in the mirror again. Still worn out, still pale.

Inigo put his face cloth back on the rack and walked out, turning off the light. Routine. He had to eat breakfast and get ready for classes. Breakfast turned out to be an orange and some yogurt. Inigo added a granola mix to his yogurt and crunched as he ate in silence. He then headed off to class.

People still milled around and Inigo’s heart did a bit of a jump, but it felt muted. It was almost an instinctual jump rather than one out of pure terror. Inigo pursed his lips and got on his regular bus, swiping his bus pass and sitting right in the front. The ride was uneventful as usual. When Inigo reached the campus he waded through the normal crowd, heading towards the building for his class. Inigo still felt a bit of a jump at any sudden motions that were too close but in his defense, university students weren’t always looking where they were going. Inigo had been nearly mowed down in the past so the fear wasn’t entirely linked to Xander.

Reaching his classroom, Inigo noticed he was rather early. Sitting down on the floor of the studio, Inigo set his bag off the side and began to stretch, already in some comfortable clothing. Inigo enjoyed the slight burn of stretching, the ache in his muscles for the briefest of moments before he was satisfactorily warmed up. His fellow classmates entered as he worked but Inigo kept on working, only keeping note of the chatter idly. It was only when Silvia walked in that Inigo took note.

“Hello.” Silvia bounced up to him. “You’re early.” She plopped down.

“Hello,” Inigo greeted. “I suppose I am.”

Silvia gave him a side eye glance as she stretched to touch her toes, practically folding herself in half to do so. “You look a bit less tired,” she stated.

That almost made Inigo fall over despite sitting on the ground and having no conceivable issue with balance. Had he really looked that terrible? Inigo didn’t want to know the answer to that.

“I-Is that so?” Inigo asked, regaining his voice.

Silvia hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. You look a bit better, though it isn’t at one hundred percent.” She then stretched further. “Things are looking up for you I suppose.”

“Right.” Inigo exhaled slowly, thinking about the volunteering, the museum, and Basilio all in a single flash behind his eyes. “I suppose they are.”

“Good.” Silvia smiled. “I’m glad to hear.” She then rearranged herself before she spoke again. “Say, did you hear that the production for this year at Regna Ferox has been announced? Audition dates are posted but no slots yet. Thinking of auditioning again?”

Regna Ferox. Inigo hadn’t been inside since—Inigo shut his mind off and focused on Silvia’s question. “I haven’t really thought of auditioning in detail. This is the first I’ve heard of the news. I suppose I’ll wait and see.”

“That’s a good idea.” Silvia was stretching in a different position. “I’ve only done a few smaller shows but the crowds, the lights, the buzz, the excitement of opening night is amazing. There is nothing else quite like it in this world, don’t you think?” She smiled dreamily. “And the flowers afterwards! The bouquets!” She laughed happily.

Inigo swallowed and thought of the pictures on his phone he didn’t have the heart to delete, the bouquets he had so carefully put into vases on his table. The heavy cream paper notes with the golden border were still tucked away somewhere in his desk, again something Inigo hadn’t the heart to even look at. His heart burned in his chest and Inigo felt his mind race at the memories. Of a simpler time when the flowers were just a mysterious gift, no face attached to them.

“Inigo?” Silvia asked, waving her hand in his face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m good.” Inigo stood up, feeling like he had stretched enough for warm up. “I’m just going to get some water.”

Hastily Inigo grabbed his water bottle and stepped out of the room and walked down the hall to the water fountain. It was one of the fancy ones that filled water bottles up. Inigo set his bottle down and filled it. He then took a drink and tried to not taste roses and lilies on his tongue, the first bouquet Xander had ever gifted him. Inigo could taste the deep red of the roses and the purity of the lilies. He looked at his water bottle, twisted the cap back on, and headed back to class, not certain what emotion it was that fluttered deep inside his stomach.

 

~

 

That night Inigo dreamt of roses and lilies being pressed against his lips, into his mouth, petal by petal. He couldn’t see the hand that was feeding them to him but as he consumed the flower petals one by one Inigo slowly tasted blood mixing with the floral scent. Then, he tasted the tip of the person’s finger. Large, warm, with a hint of cinnamon.

Inigo woke up and pressed his fingers to his lips, feeling the ghost sensation of the finger. He swallowed and tasted the cinnamon floral taste mixed with blood. Inigo squeezed his eyes shut and lightly tapped his head, wishing he could will his mind to cooperate.

 

~

 

Besides his two strange dreams, Inigo’s week went along uneventfully. Classes occurred, homework and readings were completed, and Inigo felt a bit of confidence build up. It was why when he ended up working a closing shift at work Inigo hated that sudden plummet of his good mood.

Customers came in and out. Inigo still tightened his fingers at every single one of them and still felt his mind burn with dull uncertainty and caution. As the light from outside faded, Inigo tried to not think about the darkness and the shadows that were going to greet him when he closed up and left. Anyone could be outside. Anyone could be waiting for him. Inigo couldn’t stop the thoughts and it felt like he had taken some steps backwards. It was pathetic. Inigo could do better. He exhaled sharply and reminded himself that he had two accidental encounters with Xander, and if Xander wanted him gone he would have accomplished that by now.

It wasn’t a comforting thought, but it was something to hold onto. The thin security of assurance only barely comforted Inigo when he started to lock up and close down. Making sure he had everything in order so he could smoothly and quickly finish his tasks, Inigo shut everything he had to and then set the alarm and locked the door. Stuffing the keys into his pocket, Inigo hurried down the street.

Street lamps illuminated his walk and it was plenty bright enough, but that brightness also created shadows that loomed over dark and narrow alleyways and deep corners. Inigo tightened his grip on his bag and raced to his car. Unlocking it with a press of a button, Inigo sat inside and turned his car on. The engine roared to life and the dashboard lit up. Inigo switched his car to drive and drove out and away, feeling a bit better when he was moving and heading down a main road.

As he stopped for a crosswalk closer to downtown, Inigo saw people walking around. They were all normal people, couples out for movies, friends out for dinner, people walking back to their apartments. Inigo sunk into his seat and tried to not stare at the pedestrians that crossed in front of him. He caught a bit of them regardless, just due to the light of his car. He could see regular clothes, a flash of dual toned pigtails, and relaxed, smiling faces. Everyone looked normal and lost in their own worlds, not even aware of Inigo. It helped ground him. When the light turned to green, Inigo drove off, back to his apartment still feeling a bit shaken but overall fine.

 

~

 

Inigo didn’t want to jinx it, but he felt daringly good after practice that day.

Silvia’s comment about looking “a bit better” had come as a surprise a few days before. But when Inigo had laughed—actually _laughed—_ at a joke one of the other dancers made that afternoon, her head snapped in his direction in surprise.

“Woah,” she said, seemingly without thinking. “That’s a good sound.”

It was, Inigo realized with a pause. And it wasn’t just the laughter that felt good. It was all of Inigo that felt decidedly decent. He took quick stock of himself.

His mind didn’t feel as clouded, though the same worries still nagged at him. They were just pushed a bit farther back in his brain than usual. Inigo didn’t linger over them for long out of fear of bringing them to the forefront of his mind. But it wasn’t just that; his chest felt a bit less tight too. When he twirled across the floor with his fellow dancers, he realized that he didn’t feel as out of synch with the rest as he had the past few weeks.

The Inigo of now was very different from the Inigo before. But the Inigo of today felt okay, at least. Maybe more than okay.

It was a new feeling, and Inigo didn’t know if it would last. But he liked it.

“See you!” His wave goodbye was even more exaggerated than normal, and the smile plastered on his face didn’t feel as forced either. “I’m only a phone call away if any of you ladies change your mind about that tea!”

Layla—one of the other dancers whose singing voice Inigo was envious of—giggled into hand. Silvia hooked their arms together.

“We’ll think about it,” Layla said sweetly.

Silvia leaned down and whispered something into hear ear; it didn’t sound mean. They both laughed, and an invisible weight lifted even further from Inigo’s shoulders. His grin widened.

He shouted another goodbye as they stumbled towards their cars, giddy with laughter. Finally, Inigo dropped his arm back to his side. He turned towards the direction of his apartment.

The sky was painted with the early orange hues of sunset. Normally he would have been scrambling to make it home before the darkness set in, but this time he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and started making his way down the street at a leisurely pace. He didn’t feel like running today. Too much easygoing confidence lingered in his veins to make room for fear.

In fact, that was likely the reason his eyes didn’t skim over punkish looking girl leaning against the hood of a car amidst the crowd of fellow dancers dispersing after practice. Inigo wasn’t in a rush.

She wasn’t anyone he really recognized, though her hair—a striking combination of blue and pink—looked vaguely familiar. She certainly hadn’t danced with Inigo before. He had taken note of her without any real reason to.

It wasn’t the first time Inigo had flirted with an absolute stranger. It had simply been a while. After Xander—

Well, it had been a few weeks since Inigo felt comfortable initiating the back and forth that came from approaching strangers.

The girl leaning against the car had a cute face, Inigo thought. He was making his way over to her before he was even thinking about it.

“Hello there,” he greeted, making the girl look up from her phone. They looked to be about the same age. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but you look positively radiant. Do you come here often?”

It wasn’t his most original opening line, but he justified using it with the fact he was a bit rusty. He’d get back into the swing of things soon enough.

Currently, though, Inigo didn’t look the part of a smooth talker either. His bangs were still damp with sweat despite the rag he’d run over his face before leaving. He’d used some more deodorant and thrown on a little more cologne while changing too, but he wouldn’t be able to shower until he got home.

To his pleasant surprise, however, the girl tucked her phone into the waistband of her frilly skirt as soon as Inigo spoke, giving him her full attention. The skull and crossbone t-shirt she wore definitely fed into the punk vibe she had going on. Not Inigo’s normal type, but at the end of the day, everyone was beautiful in their own way. This girl was no exception.

She smiled like there was a joke he wasn’t privy to. “Yeah, actually! I’m here all the time.”

“Really?” Inigo shifted his weight again. “Are you a patron of the arts then? Or just waiting on a friend?”

The parking lot was emptying rather quickly, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any lingering souls still inside the building. Owain and Severa had waited on Inigo after practice a time or two as well.

The girl hummed playfully. “I guess you could say it’s something like that.”

Inigo cocked his head, waiting to be let in on the secret. When he wasn’t, he stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Inigo. It’s nice to meet you…”

He trailed off meaningfully.

“Peri,” the girl replied, shaking his hand. “Oh, I guess this is the first time we’ve really spoken, huh? Even though I see you all the time too.”

“You do?” So he hadn’t been wrong in thinking she looked familiar. “I’m sorry to say you have me at a disadvantage then, Peri. But I’d love to keep seeing more of you to make up for that. If you’re free, what do you say to a bit of tea? I know a good shop around the corner. We can get to know each other a little more there.”

He smiled disarmingly at the end to get his point across.

Inigo didn’t want a date. Not really. But he was always open to making a new friend. Goodness knew he was short on those lately.

“Sure!” Peri chirped. “I have to go where you do anyway. Going together is just more convenient.”

“Excuse me?”

Inigo’s smile froze on his face. Peri didn’t seem to notice. She pushed herself off the hood of the car and into his personal space. Inigo stumbled back.

“Come on, let’s go!” she said, taking his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and pulling him down the sidewalk. “You have to get home before dark, right? We should hurry.”

“Wait!” Inigo yelped, heart as thrumming as wildly as a hummingbird’s. “Stop! Let go!”

He somehow managed to jerk his wrist out of Peri’s tight grasp. She stopped as soon as Inigo did, blinking her big doll eyes at him in confusion. Inigo had thought it to be a cute look just moments before. Now, he thought she looked like predatory bird.

“What’s wrong?” Peri wrinkled her nose, seemingly unaware of the fresh fear swirling in Inigo’s chest. “I thought you wanted to get tea?”

Any and all thought of having a good day had thrown itself out the window with Inigo’s slowly developing sense of security.

Inigo stared. In his periphery, cars slowly bled out of the parking lot and into traffic.

If he yelled loud enough, he thought, he could maybe get someone’s attention before he was well and truly alone.

But when he opened his mouth, his voice was barely loud enough to be heard.

“ _What_ ,” Inigo croaked. “What did you mean just now—that you have to go where I do?”

Peri blinked again. She straightened with realization.

“Oh!” she said, smacking her fist into her open palm. “Right! I forgot that you didn’t know. Whoops!”

“ _Whoops_?” he echoed. He took a hesitant step back and didn’t miss the way Peri’s owlish eyes narrowed in on the movement. “Is that—How did you know I like to be home before dark?”

He was so nervous he almost couldn’t get the words out.

This was a bad situation. A very, very bad situation. He didn’t know why Peri had said what she had, but a sinking anchor of suspicion in his gullet answered that question before Peri did.

When Inigo had begun looking over his shoulder for members of the criminal underground sent to take him out, he hadn’t expected them to be so colorful.

“It’s because I’ve been following you,” Peri said easily, like that revelation wasn’t as horrible as it was. “I thought we were going to talk about that over tea?”

“I’d prefer to talk about that here, thank you,” Inigo said. His veins had turned to ice. “Let’s take a rain check, please.”

He took another step back without thinking. Peri countered with a step forward.

“Are you going to run away?” she asked, pursing her lips with displeasure. “You’d better not! Then I’d have to chase you, and that would make me mad. And if you made me _really_ mad, then it doesn’t matter what Xander says. _Thwack._ I’m gonna cut you open and make you red.”

She reached for the waistline of her skirt again. Inigo wasn’t sure if she was going for her phone or something decidedly more dangerous. He raised his hands and shook his head quickly, not wanting to risk it either way.

“No, no, of course not! I’m not going anywhere!”

He looked for anyone he could signal for help out of the corner of his eye, but even before he realized no one was looking their way, Inigo knew it was a fruitless effort. What was he supposed to do? Drag someone else into his troubles and get them in danger too? Peri had gone from potential date to danger in the span of a minute, but she was a danger Inigo had to talk down by himself.

Which he could.

Hopefully.

Peri blew a raspberry at him. “Are you scared already? I didn’t even get out my knives or anything. It’s less fun if you’re not going to fight back.”

“I’d prefer not to fight at all!” Inigo yelped. His brain was shooting off thoughts rapid-fire, trying to think of a way out. “Didn’t—Didn’t you just say Xander told you _not_ to kill me?”

Peri hummed again, this time considering. Her hand fell away from her waist.

“Yeah,” she said reluctantly. “He did. So I guess I should let you go for now.”

Slowly, Inigo lowered his hands. He didn’t know what any of this meant—the significance of Xander sending someone after Inigo with orders _not_ to kill him—but he had a few more important points to sort out first. Keeping Peri from killing him was the first one.

As steadily as Inigo could manage, he said, “Okay. I appreciate that, Peri.”

Peri perked up at the praise, scowl disappearing. Somehow, Inigo didn’t feel any more at ease.

“Since neither of us plan on killing the other,” he continued, “would you mind explaining again why you’re following me? If that’s alright.”

The last thing he wanted to do was piss off the girl who clearly had no problem taking care of business.

To his enormous relief, Peri didn’t immediately threaten him for asking questions.

“Are you sure you want to do it right here?” she asked instead. “We can still get that tea if you wanted.”

“No!” Inigo said, too quickly. He cleared his throat and purposely relaxed his posture, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “No, that’s alright. Here is good. Thank you, though.”

Peri shrugged. “I guess we can do that later then. Oh! If we do it at my house, I can even make snacks. I’m a really good cook, you know.”

“I’m sure you are. But about the stalking thing…”

“I’m not _really_ your stalker,” Peri defended. She crossed her arms. “I’m just following you because Xander says you could be in danger. I’m like your personal guard! It’s different.”

Those few sentences held a lot of implications between them. Inigo wasn’t sure he wanted to unpack them all.

“My personal guard?” he repeated.

“Yeah! I used to be Xander’s guard, but now he says you’re more important.” She kicked a pebbled into the road and looked up at the sky. “It’s ‘cause you guys dated, but then you got scared and broke up just because Xander killed that guy. I don’t really get that part. That sounds like a pretty good date to me.”

That was—

A very warped perception of events, Inigo noted.

When he didn’t say anything, Peri continued. There was something childish about the way she spoke.

“But Xander already told me it’s your choice to break up and to be respectful about that and not to get in your way even though I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble. Which is really generous, if you ask me. Xander’s really upset, but he told me to watch over you anyway. If you made _me_ that upset, I would have just let the bad guys get you by now. But there haven’t been any bad guys recently anyway, so…”

As she trailed off, caught up in her own winding thoughts, Inigo realized why Peri’s name sounded so familiar.

That night—the night of The Incident. Inigo hadn’t been paying much attention, but Xander had mentioned a Peri and Flora. Inigo had always pictured Xander’s underlings as faceless, bloodstained goons who relished violence and dark alleys.

And now Peri stood in front of him, in the flesh, despite all of Inigo’s attempts to remove himself from that sort of life.

She was younger than Inigo thought she’d be. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought they could be classmates.

Something shifted in his chest.

“Okay,” he said slowly, still parsing through Peri’s explanation. “And how long did Xander say to follow me for?”

The words left an acidic trail on his tongue. Inigo was slowly starting to identify the feeling in his chest.

“I dunno,” Peri said. “Probably forever, because you’ve been—what’d he say?” Her mouth twisted in thought. “Oh, yeah, because you’re ‘associated with the family now.’”

She hadn’t made air quotes, but Inigo had heard them all the same.

His hands were beginning to shake.

Though not, Inigo noted with muted surprise, for the reasons he thought they should be.

“So forever then,” he hazarded a guess.

Peri threw her hands up in a ‘what can you do?’ motion.

“I _guess_ ,” she said unhappily. “I don’t think people forget this sort of stuff. Xander said you’d probably be in danger until he died. Which might as well be forever, because he’s not allowed to do that. I’ll kill anyone who tries. But I hope _I’m_ not the one following you around forever, because to be honest, you’re pretty boring and I don’t even get to kill anyone when I’m with you.”

Inigo heard the words, but he didn’t truly process anything beyond Peri’s confirmation that he’d probably be followed by strangers due to his association with Xander for the rest of his life.

Which…

Really pissed him off, actually.

Anger was such a foreign emotion to Inigo. Exasperation came to him easily enough, but anger, _real_ anger, never did. It didn’t tend to overstay its welcome either. Even after that dreadful night, Inigo hadn’t let himself become angry. He’d just been sad and scared.

Inigo had been sad and scared ever since then too.

Today had almost been a good day, but then he’d met Peri. And suddenly he was back where he’d been for weeks, mentally curled up in a sad, scared ball. It was a terrible, isolating sensation.

And he was sick of it, he realized.

Xander was the one who had lied from the start. _Xander_ was the one who had fed Inigo half-truths, who had let him discover the danger too late.

And now that Inigo knew the truth, Xander was still doing the same bullshit.

Inigo’s growing rage must have shown on his face, because Peri began squinting at him. He wanted to apologize— _for what?_ a voice in his mind whispered—but he was too preoccupied with the avalanche of feeling inside him to speak up.

What had even been the point of telling Xander to get lost in the first place, he wondered. He’d left Xander because of two things: Firstly, he couldn’t reconcile the Xander he’d dated with the Xander who would shoot a man in cold blood. Secondly, Inigo hadn’t wanted to be associated with that Xander’s lifestyle in the slightest.

And yet without him knowing, Xander had ordered someone to follow Inigo. Presumably for his safety, if Peri’s words could be trusted at all, which Inigo still wasn’t sure about. If she was being truthful, then part of Inigo felt viciously validated for having been right to fear the target on his back the whole time. It hadn’t been such a foolish fear after all.

The bigger implications of what that meant wrestled in his mind.

Would Inigo always be associated with Xander from here on out? Didn’t it _matter_ that Inigo had been avoiding him to the best of his ability? Or had Xander been following him too, putting Inigo in even more danger just because he could? What if that run-in at the museum and the charity event hadn’t been an accident after all? Was Xander hoping Inigo would fearfully run back into Xander’s arms once he heard Peri’s story, too overwhelmed to take it on his own any longer? Was Peri being here just another cog in Xander’s master plan to make Inigo reliant on him? Had Xander thought this all through?

White, hot anger bubbled in his stomach. Inigo didn’t care if his thoughts were running away from him at this point. He was _mad_.

“Peri,” Inigo heard himself say distantly, “I’d like to see Xander, if you’d please.”

A week ago, the very thought would have sent Inigo into yet another spiral.

Now, all Inigo could think about was giving the man a piece of his mind.

“Huh?” Peri wrinkled her nose again. “Really? I thought you didn’t want to see him ever again.”

“Really.”

She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Xander always says not to interrupt him unless it’s important.”

“This is very important, I assure you.” Inigo bit his tongue briefly. “If you let me talk to him, I can maybe get someone else assigned to watch me. So you won’t have to be bored anymore.”

 _So you can go back to killing people_ , Inigo thought with dread. Peri spoke about killing so casually and with relish. It made his stomach churn.

Inigo swallowed it down. Peri didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Peri began to skip her way back into the parking lot, which was almost entirely empty. She pulled a pair of car keys out of some invisible pocket and looked back when she noticed Inigo not following. “Come on!”

She didn’t yank him around this time, thank goodness.

Fury slithered up and down Inigo’s spine like a living thing.

He followed.

 

~

 

Peri drove like she was consistently straddling the middle line, only to dodge at the last second and safely stay on her side of the road. If Inigo’s stomach wasn’t bubbling and brewing with fury he might have squeaked and held onto something for dear life. Instead, Inigo’s thoughts were mixing and coiling rapidly in his brain, squeezing slowly and carefully. All the recent memories, the charity volunteering and the art gallery dripped viciously and opaquely down the interior of Inigo’s brain, draining of colour. A black and white pool collided harshly in the bottom of Inigo’s brain, draining down his spine and into his stomach. The fury that was bubbling turned white, then black, and then red.

Xander had Peri follow him. She claimed it was for his safety, that it was because people were after him, but Inigo knew a flimsy lie when he heard one. Xander just wanted to make sure Inigo didn’t spill anything or speak to the wrong people. He wanted his loose end tied in any way possible. If he wasn’t ordering the hit on Inigo, then he was doing it to make Inigo scared.

Inigo wasn’t going to be reliant on Xander, and his life couldn’t keep revolving around Xander. His brief run in with Xander was in the past, and Inigo had a life to live. Poorly, but with Peri affirming his fears, Inigo’s paranoia finally felt justified. It was an almost bitter sweet victory.

His brain, swirled and Inigo wished he had a stress ball. He needed to physically feel what his brain and mind were feeling. His lips pulled into a thin line, and Inigo just let the thoughts ooze the filthy black and white mixture of memories until there was nothing left. Inigo hadn’t known what to think of his encounters with Xander earlier, so really, it shouldn’t have surprised him that he still was fumbling in the darkness of uncertainty.

Peri pulled up to the mansion, the one Inigo had visited a lifetime ago. Distantly, Inigo remembered how butterflies had filled his stomach. Now, only lightning bugs dyed red fluttered, shining a harsh red light.

“This way.” Peri hopped out, her hair bouncing as she moved, a smile on her face.

Either she was oblivious to Inigo’s churning thoughts or she didn’t really care. Not that it mattered. Peri lead him inside and distantly, Inigo saw a flash of pink (one of the maids, if Inigo remembered correctly) and a hint of silver hair (the butler?). Peri hummed a jaunty tune as she kept walking down a hallway, past the sitting room Inigo had been in long ago. No one else greeted them, but that didn’t mean no one else was inside. Inigo didn’t really care. When Peri stopped in front of a door, knocking, she didn’t wait for a response. Flinging the door open, she strode inside.

“Xander! I brought you someone!” she said, as though Inigo was there on business or a social call.

“Peri,” Xander’s voice came out, worn, “what did I say about—?”

Inigo walked in. The room was an office and a modest one. Just the basics were there: a desk, a couple small book shelves, a waste paper can. Xander was sitting in a comfortable chair and looked just the same as Inigo had seen him last. A bit pale, hair messy, eyes darkened, shirt ruffled. Xander’s mouth opened and then shut audibly, and Inigo saw his eyes, rimmed and dark, quickly scan Inigo and then Peri. He then stood up, rather abruptly.

“Is everything all right?” Xander asked, his voice urgent.

Inigo had no plan to how he was going to start digging into Xander but before he could open his mouth, Xander was hovering close to him, hands out, like he wanted to touch Inigo but wasn’t sure if he could.

“You’re not injured?” Xander continued, “No one attacked you?”

“Nope!” Peri popped the “P” in the word. “Inigo said this was important and you told me to not bother you unless it was important and so…” Peri trailed off like she hoped Inigo or Xander would fill the blank.

“Important,” Xander repeated before he exhaled slowly. “I understand. Peri, you may leave.”

“Roger!” Peri agreed automatically. “Does this mean I have the rest of the day off?”

Inigo flinched at her casual words, the reminder that he was a job, a chore to the dual hair coloured girl. All he was to her was an item on her schedule.

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… stay on the property, Peri. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Right!” Peri walked out and shut the door.

Now that it was just them and Xander had deemed Inigo uninjured, he moved away, not sitting, but not far from Inigo. Inigo took a step back and decided if Xander wasn’t going to start anything, he was going to start it for him.

“You had her follow me,” Inigo started, his voice surprisingly low, quiet.

“I did.” Xander didn’t deny it. He didn’t deny it, and he smoothly said it.

Inigo felt the red, the lightning bugs that were shining their harsh red glow erupt from his lips, burst out of his throat. How dare Xander admit his plotting behind Inigo’s back casually, calmly, as though it was a natural event to not be alarmed by.

“You had her follow me!” Inigo’s voice raised. “For how long? Since the night at the theater? Did you go home immediately after dropping me off and tell her to go to my place and watch me?”

“The next morning, I asked her,” Xander supplied Inigo, not holding the truth back. “She’s been following you since then. I knew there was no way to tell you, as you made your stance on talking to me rather clear.”

“Rather clear?!” Inigo gaped. “In case I have to spell it out to you, we broke up! The end! That’s it! We’re not anything any more!”

If Xander flinched at those words, Inigo didn’t care. Truthfully, his heart cut a bit to say them aloud, but perhaps Inigo had been coddling himself for far too long. The truth was a bandaid, and it had to be ripped off.

“I’m aware of our relationship terminated,” Xander’s words were careful. “However, other parties will still see you as associated with the Family, and I —”

There was that phrase again. “Associated with the Family.”

Inigo growled, “I’M NOT WITH YOU, XANDER!”

His voice echoed and vibrated for a moment. Inigo reeled it in a touch. “I don’t want to deal with your lifestyle, and I think I’ve proved it by now, so if you could tell your little guard dog to stop following me, I’d appreciate it. I’m not going to spill anything or say anything to anyone. No need for a safety net.”

“Safety net?” Xander’s voice was sharp. “Inigo, I asked Peri to follow you because I was worried about someone else attacking you. I merely wanted to make sure—”

“Make sure of what?” Inigo screamed, feeling all his rage, all his pent up emotions from what felt like eternity bleed out. “My safety? That’s a load of bullshit, Xander! Peri even said so herself. It’s been quiet. It’s because no one is following me except you! What did you ask for in her report? Did you have her report how I cried myself to sleep for weeks on end? Did you have her report how sometimes I couldn’t get out of bed and had to drag myself out? Did you want to hear how I couldn’t go in public and that doing so made me almost have a panic attack?”

Xander’s eyes furrowed, and the look he gave Inigo hurt. If Inigo was foolish enough, he’d think his confession was new to Xander. It couldn’t have been. The liar.

“You’re been lying to me since day one!” Inigo kept on going. “That’s why we broke up! I don’t want to deal with your life, and I don’t want to deal with your consistent lies! Yet, you’ve broken my trust again! Sure, this time you didn’t pull a gun out and kill a guy in cold blood, but you might as well have shot me.” The room was spinning and the colours blurring a bit but Inigo wasn’t done, his anger still hot and burning.

“Inigo—!” Xander’s voice rose sharply.

“What?” Inigo swiftly cut Xander off. “You’ve broken my trust, validated my fears. Or was that what you wanted? Did you think if Peri scared me enough I’d come running back to you? That I’d be scared enough to return to you?! That I’d—”

Xander moved and suddenly Inigo was in his arms, being held tightly. Inigo half gurgled a scream, the world spinning and blurring more. Inigo tried to thrash against Xander, against the heat and the sturdiness of his body.

“Let… me…”

“Inigo. Breathe.” Xander’s voice was strong, not moving. “In and out.”

Against Inigo’s chest he felt Xander’s chest rise in a pattern. Inigo’s heart wanted to stubbornly ignore him but his brain kicked in and followed. The moment Inigo did as Xander demonstrated, the world slowly slotted into place, not blurring, not fading at the edges. Inigo soon followed in rhythm, and the oxygen immediately flooded his system. He breathed deeply and smoothly, and soon Inigo realized he was half on the ground with Xander holding him. The spicy smell of his cologne waffled in Inigo’s nose, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Sorry.” Xander slowly pulled away. “You were hyperventilating a little. I just wanted to stop it before you passed out.”

Hyperventilating. Inigo opened his mouth but then tasted salt. He then realized he was crying softly. All the anger he had pent up, had vented out to Xander was taking its toll. Hiccuping Inigo felt irritation well up at his tears. He wanted to show Xander what he felt and show Xander he was independant and capable. Instead, he was crying in Xander’s office after only shouting at him.

“Please don’t cry.” Xander’s voice was soft. “Here.”

A box of tissues was passed to Inigo. Inigo took them, clutching them like a lifeline. Now that he wasn’t being held up by Xander, Inigo’s body felt heavy.

“I wish I could take it back.” Xander softly continued. “Take back that moment in the theater. I still see it when I try to sleep. I cannot imagine what you must have felt in that moment. I always tried to tell myself that when the time came, I’d knew what to do or say. The truth always hung over me, like a blade.”

Xander exhaled sharply. “I know it doesn’t excuse my actions or my lies. I thought I was protecting you. I thought I could keep you safe. I wasn’t. I just hurt you. You have every right to be mad at me or hate me.”

“However, I swear I only did it because I wanted you safe. I never thought of pressuring you into staying with me. I will never force you to change how you feel, I promise. I know my word isn’t worth anything to you, Inigo, but it’s all I have at the moment. I’m sorry.”

Inigo hiccupped and wiped his eyes, tossing the tissue into the waste paper bin. He did it in a single shot. Perfect score to Inigo.

“Have Peri stop following me,” Inigo muttered.

“I will.” Xander agreed with an ease that almost made Inigo’s brain flip flop. “Again, my word isn’t worth anything to you, I know, but please trust me.”

Trust him. Xander was asking a lot from Inigo. How did that one saying go? “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me”?

“How can I even trust you again?” Inigo asked, despite his heart desperately wanting to believe Xander.

“I don’t know,” Xander simply replied, his voice pained. “However, all I can say is regardless of how I feel about you, I wasn’t acknowledging how you feel about me. I stubbornly told myself that my feelings were the only valid ones, and that you’d understand in the end. I was fool.”

This was where Inigo should leave it at. He had Xander acknowledge his thoughts and feelings. He had Xander come clean about Peri, and he had a promise that he’d be left alone. This was what Inigo wanted in the end.

Except, his heart clung and tugged at the middle bit from Xander, about his feelings towards Inigo. Foolish, perhaps masochistic of him, but Inigo opened his mouth.

“How do you feel about me?”

Silence, a contrast from Inigo’s screaming from before. The moment allowed Inigo to flush hotly. Why did he even ask? Inigo had no clue.

“I…” Xander slowly trailed before he was close to Inigo again, kneeling in front of Inigo. “I missed you every single day. I worried about you constantly, and when I saw you at volunteering and in the museum, it was as though I had woken from a nightmare. Seeing you has made me feel more at ease than I’ve felt in a long while. I know you don’t want anything to do with me so please, don’t think I’m pressuring you.” Xander stood up. “I’ll get someone to drive you back to where ever you want.”

Alive. Inigo’s mind swirled around Xander’s confession. It was soft, sweet, and the poison Inigo didn’t know he wanted until he heard it. He shivered and hated that his heart thumped harder than he remembered it doing in weeks. Inigo hated that his body betrayed him all while his mind slammed itself against the cage of caution. Conflicted.

“Wait.” Inigo’s mouth moved on its own. “ I have a question.”

“Yes?” Xander asked.

“Am I always going to be associated with you, in your mind?” Inigo asked, standing up. “When I leave, will you truly be able to leave me alone? Or will you fall into the habit and decide to check up on me?”

“I—” Xander started before he bit his lip softly. “I don’t know, Inigo. However, I’ll do my best to leave you alone.”

Again, Inigo should have left it but his mouth kept moving. “Tell me, if we could rewind time and be back in the theater, what is the ideal scene you’d wish for?”

“Inigo.” Xander sharply said, fulling turning around. “We cannot deal with what ifs…”

“Yes, we can. Answer me,” Inigo firmly said.

Silence again.

“Tell me what your ideal scene is.” Xander turned the question on Inigo.

“No, you first.” Inigo didn’t give in.

More silence. Then, Xander walked over to Inigo. “My ideal scene? My ideal scene is you not shivering in my arms when I held you. I felt how you were trying to keep yourself together. My ideal scene is of you allowing me to take you home or here. Anywhere private where we could be together. I’d then have us change, wash up, then sit on the couch and drink something warm. I’d then hold you and tell you everything you wanted to hear. I’d answer all your questions, no lies, no hiding. Then, when my voice is hoarse and you’re about to drift off, I’d take you to bed and let you sleep. I’d stay if you wanted, but it wouldn’t be a necessity. Then, in the morning, I’d let you sleep as long as you wanted before making you breakfast.”

Inigo’s heart ached. It burned at Xander’s scene. He could see it, taste it, feel it, and his heart wanted it. Everything hurt with the desire to hold that scene in his heart, as though holding onto it would make it reality.

“And you?” Xander asked again.

What he wanted. Inigo swallowed. “I’d want to feel safe, to feel like my world hadn’t just toppled to the ground in a bloody mess. I’d want to be assured that you’d never lie to me again and that I’d never have to deal with the lifestyle you lead. I’d want the truth and security.”

Xander walked forward and very gently touched Inigo’s head, his warm palm resting on the messy locks. “I… I cannot promise you’d never have to face the reality of my lifestyle. It’s who I am. Just like you’re a dancer, I’m a Mafia boss. I cannot promise you’ll always feel secure, but I can try within my power. I cannot promise I’ll always be able to tell the whole truth, but I can promise what I tell you won’t be a lie.”

This. This was what Basilio meant in the car. The Ultimatum. The Compromise. Inigo’s heart skipped a beat, and he realized with an almost alarming clarity that he was on a verge of making a choice.

Inigo could walk out. He could have Xander or someone drive him away and somehow, Inigo knew he’d never hear from Xander again. He’d live his life separately and it would stay that way. No Peri. No Xander. Forever walking two separate paths.

Maybe Inigo should have taken more time to think things through. Being logical wasn’t always his strong point, but Inigo was smart; he wasn’t just a romantic. However, Inigo had done more than his fair share of thinking and antagonizing and worrying. He had hurt because of Xander, but he also hurt more away from Xander.

His stomach was devoid of lightning bugs of anger or butterflies of anxiousness. There was just a crystal clear void.

Inigo made his choice.

He stepped forward boldly and hugged Xander. Xander nearly toppled backwards, but Inigo kept holding on, loving the strength between his arms, the bulkiness of Xander’s build. Sure, Xander probably had a gun on him at this moment. Inigo’s brain wasn’t over seeing the dead body in the theater or Xander holding the smoking gun. There were still many issues they hadn’t talked over, the major one being if their relationship was on the mend. Xander’s warnings were very real, and Inigo had no guarantees things would work out, but neither did Xander.

So, Inigo firmly made his choice. He melted into Xander the way his body had been craving for a while, and nearly mewled when Xander hugged him back. There was no move to do anything else. A hug was all that was permitted and Xander wasn’t pushing any boundaries.

Inigo closed his eyes. “I believe one part of your fantasy was sitting me down and telling me everything.”

Xander jolted and then held Inigo tighter. “You’re right. Let’s find a place to sit down and talk. I can have Jakob bring some tea and cookies Peri made earlier. I’ll tell you everything I can, I promise.”

“All right,” Inigo muttered. Tea sounded like the best idea ever.

“All right,” Xander repeated. “Let’s go.”

He lead Inigo out and back towards the sitting room. On the way they saw Peri who gave a wave, casual and non-menacing. “Worked things out?” she asked. “Do I still have to follow him?”

“You don’t,” Xander assured. “Take a rest, Peri.”

“Great!” Peri beamed. “That’s one outsider issue dealt with.” She then left before explaining anything else.

Outsider issue? Inigo stopped in his tracks and looked at Xander. “What did that mean?”

Xander gave a half sheepish smile. “Let’s just say I’m not the only one who decided to befriend and fall for someone not in the Family.”

That left so many questions. Xander gestured to the sitting room. “I’ll explain once we have tea and refreshments. After you?”

Still the gentleman. Inigo nodded and then, with little prompting, walked into the sitting room, knowing that after a bit of waiting he’d finally get the answers he deserved. Sitting down on the couch, Inigo watched as Xander sat on the same couch, just a bit away, giving Inigo space. The heat and tension between them was thick and said that perhaps, if Inigo wanted, he could bridge that gap.

Not now. Perhaps not in a long while. First, Inigo had to take things one step at a time, the first step being the truth.

He was ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Silvia: A reference to a character from Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, who is a dancer unit.
> 
> Vaike: He's the wild Uncle, the one that always has a story centered around him.
> 
> Accidentally: To clarify, Xander really was accidentally at the volunteer event and at the museum. All he requested was Peri to follow Inigo. The other stuff? Pure coincidence.
> 
> Basilio: Best Uncle and the one with surprisingly insightful advice.
> 
> Roses and lilies: Some of the first flowers Xander gave Inigo in Part One.
> 
> Inigo's turmoil: We didn't want Inigo always scared, depressed, frightened, etc. Hopefully we did a good job making Inigo feel dynamic.
> 
> Their relationship: I hope we've made it clear that there is a lot of insecurities, trauma, and pain between Xander and Inigo. This isn't something that will be solved instantly. Again, hopefully it's clear that as of this moment them instantly getting back together is unrealistic.


End file.
